Oh, you devil, you fiend! I 'm not the one you 're after--it's Murphy!" For a single moment Hampton stared at the cringing figure.

Then suddenly he rose to his feet in decision.

"Stand up! Lift your hands first, you fool.

Now unbuckle your gun-belt with your left hand--your left, I said! Drop it on the floor." There was an unusual sound behind, such as a rat might have made, and Hampton glanced aside apprehensively.

In that single second Slavin was upon him, grasping his pistol-arm at the wrist, and striving with hairy hand to get a death-grip about his throat.